The Beginning of the End
by Stratusfear
Summary: Before Tidus and Yuna, before Sin, before Yevon, there was Lenne and Shuyin, cast adrift in a world on the brink of losing its innocence...and its past.


**Summary**: Before Tidus and Yuna, before Sin, before Yevon, there was Lenne and Shuin, cast adrift in a world on the brink of losing its innocence….and its past.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the places and people of Final Fantasy X or Final Fantasy X-2, they are the product of Square Enix.

**Chapter 1: Macalanian Rhapsody**

In just a few short decades, Spira had changed drastically. Ever since the Al Bhed tribe alighted from their native island on huge airships and conquered the city of St. Bevelle, Spira had been setting forth on a dark path. As it turned out, this invasion had not happened out of the blue. It had been carefully conspired between the citizens of Bevelle and the leaders of the Al Bhed. Why had the people of Bevelle allowed a foreign tribe to take their city? Because of resentment. It was well known that, at least in Bevelle and Zanarkhand, Guado held positions of power almost exclusively. This produced no negative reaction in Zanarkhand, as it was common knowledge that the Guado had founded the city and only later invited other tribes to live there. But in Bevelle it was a different story. Bevelle had been founded by a human man of the same name who was now revered as a saint. This man had gathered people of all the different tribes together to contribute to its design, but the Guado, being the architects behind the glorious city of Zanarkhand, had the greatest influence. And, after St. Bevelle died with no heir to replace him as the city's leader, the Guado took command. Bevelle had intended the city to be a haven for all tribes and races. However, a strong pro-human (and anti-Guado) sentiment began to fester in the hearts of its citizens. Many began to feel that Bevelle should be a shining beacon of human independence, and they resented the Guado's dominance in the political arena as a result.

The Al Bhed were a different story. They did not care so much about racial superiority as they did getting their foot in the political door. The Al Bhed lived on an island far out from the mainland, and as a result were a bit isolated and lacked a strong voice amidst the union of city-states (a union that had now crumbled). If they gained a strong connection to Bevelle, however, they would be on the road to dominance. The Al Bhed stood aloof mainly because of their attitude toward machinery. In their own opinion, the Guado did not permit enough innovation. The Guado had always been wary of machinery for reasons many people did not understand, and had enacted restrictions as to why, when, and how quickly mechanical designs could be either invented or innovated upon. The Al Bhed chafed under these restrictions and wanted them removed, but the Guado would not. And if they wanted to challenge the Guado, they would need much more political influence. When they conquered Bevelle, they got just that. The Guado, leaders and ordinary citizens alike, were commanded to leave Bevelle, and were forcefully ejected and in some cases even killed if they resisted this forced exodus.

The Guado, for the most part, were remarkably accepting of this edict and the new, more militant leadership that issued it. A great many saw it as cowardice and a sign of the innate weakness they must have been trying to hide all along. Others felt guilty for using force against such gentle and cooperative people. The Al Bhed drew borders along the land and sea surrounding Bevelle, borders that had previously not been there, and demanded the right to do with machinery what they willed within the boundary. The Guado granted their wish, hoping that if their present demands were met there would be no more violence. They were wrong. Bevelle began to innovate and invent machines as they liked, but the rest of the world continued to follow the Guado's restrictions. This infuriated the Al Bhed and those citizens of Bevelle who had come to see themselves as having been "liberated" from the "oppression" of the Guado. They soon saw it as their mission to "liberate" the rest of the world, too. And that was how the wars began. The Guado had been willing to stop their restrictions in Bevelle, but in other places they proved much less tolerant. Besaid city was the first to fall. Then came Kilika, and next Luca fell under Bevelle's umbrella. The rogue city-state turned empire was proving unstoppable. Now it had come down to Zanarkhand and Bevelle, the two largest cities in Spira, and it was evident that the conflict would be long, bloody, and bitter. Of course, not _all_ of the citizens of Bevelle, nor all of the Al Bhed, approved of what was happening. Some were angry that the Guado had been banished, for there was little justification for it. The Guado had always been fair and competent rulers. The current leadership of Bevelle, on the other hand, was harsh and militaristic and more overtly controlling than the Guado ever were. The government of Bevelle was extremely intolerant of criticism from any quarter, but particularly hated it when that criticism came from its own citizenry. People who spoke out against the government were ostracized, imprisoned and sometimes even assassinated.

The war had first started ten years ago, when Lenne was still a little girl, and she had grown up surrounded by it. Her parents were both pro-Guado, and had a strong dislike for the new government of Bevelle. They had taught Lenne of their religion and their views, both of which went against the grain of what was currently popular in Bevelle. When Lenne hit puberty, her parents had stressed her to find some way of expressing herself. Her contrary political stance and belief in the Guado religion, which the majority of Bevelle did not approve of, and the knowledge of what would happen to her if she spoke openly about either, had caused her to be soft-spoken and shy around anyone else except her parents. She had ultimately chosen singing as an outlet, and had become immensely popular. The content of her songs, which were heavily influenced by Guado culture and often anti-war, got her in a lot of trouble with the government, however. She was accused of inciting people to revolt, and indeed it might have been true. When she grew in popularity, those people who disapproved of the government's actions found something to rally around. She became the touchstone of an anti-government movement, regardless of whether that was her original intention. In the end, her supporters smuggled her out of Bevelle, and her parents were locked up in her place.

And that was how she, Lenne, found herself wandering around Macalania Wood. She had been told to find the Macalania Tribes, that they would help her. So far, though, Lenne hadn't seen much of anyone, just Fiends. There hadn't always been this many Fiends. The Guado had once been meticulous about Sending the dead, but now they allowed them to remain. In truth, the main reason so many cities had fallen so quickly was because the Guado adamantly refused to use mechanical weaponry like the forces of Bevelle did. They said it was dishonorable and would lead them down the path of oblivion. So, to put themselves on a somewhat even footing with Bevelle, they padded their forces with Fiends. Fiends had never bothered the Guado and even obeyed their commands; it was rumored this was because they guarded the Farplane. They certainly bothered her, though. In fact two were facing her right now.

"Bahamut, come to me!" She called, raising her staff in the air. Lenne was a Summoner, a person who the spirits had favored with the power to call forth the Aeons, divine guardians of all Spira. She had obtained Bahamut by praying at the Palace of St. Bevelle, although nowadays it seemed more like a military fortress than a sacred temple. She felt the power of the spirits well up within her soul, felt her heart cry out and a much greater being than herself answer. The beautiful dragon alighted from the heavens and landed with a boom that must have sent a tremor through the whole forest. The god-like being unleashed its Mega-Flare on the two Fiends and they passed on in an explosion of spirit matter.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, bowing to the departed souls, then kneeled before Bahamut. "Thank you, great one."

Bahamut nodded his great head, then flew far and away to wherever it was he came from.

"So….you're a Summoner from Bevelle." A quiet voice said. She leapt to her feet, looking around in dismay.

"Up here." The voice called. She looked up to see a tall, birdlike creature wearing a long purple robe and green feather headdress standing on one of the branches of one of Macalania's humongous crystallized trees.

"Oh….you must be a member of the tribes of Macalania." She said, awed by his imposing elegance.

"Yes, my name is Varuna. You must be Lady Lenne. I have heard of you, as has everyone else in Macalania. You are welcome here. Follow me. The Bevelle soldiers will probably be quick at our heels, but I know a place where they won't find us." He said, motioning for her to follow him. She climbed up onto the branch and found it surprisingly similar to a path.

"How is it you know me?" She asked as she followed behind him, gawking around at the shimmering beauty of this ethereal glade.

"You are a great source of inspiration to all who wish for peace. Your songs remind us of a gentler time, when the world was not going steadily mad." He explained, glancing back at her. They continued on in silence until they arrived at a small glen, with a rippling waterfall. There were various other people in this glen, all of them looking just as inhuman as the anthropomorphic bird-man that had led her here. They all recognized her immediately and she soon found herself crushed amidst an excited clamor.

"Enough, enough!" Varuna rumbled suddenly, and she watched his form ripple. He was activating a Dress Sphere! His traditional clothing was replaced by armor, and she realized that he was covered in dark green feathers. A lance appeared in his hands, and he swung half-heartedly at his fellows. Everyone quickly backed off, but laughed as they did so.

"Ho! There goes Varuna again, thinking he's a warrior!" Bellowed one of the stout frog-like drummers, laughing boisterously.

"You'll put my eye out with that spear, and then I'll have to shed a tear!" Squeaked one of the furry, long-eared trumpet players.

"Just give her some breathing room, would you?" Varuna said curtly, thunking the butt of his lance on the ground. The musicians trundled out of the glen, talking loudly amongst themselves. She saw Varuna's form ripple again as he deactivated the Dress Sphere, and he once more stood in his purple robes.

"I'm terribly sorry about that. My people never pass up the chance for celebration, but sometimes we inconvenience others by doing so." He apologized.

"Oh….that's alright. I'm kind of used to getting mobbed." She said. "Hey….do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Ask away." He said in his feather-light yet baritone voice, turning to face her.

"Well, do people of the Macalania Tribes not become warriors that often? Cause, well, they seemed to think it was strange….that you…." Lenne trailed off. Varuna was looking up at the stars with what she supposed must be a nostalgic expression (his beak made his facial expressions difficult to read).

"Hmm….you are right. We do not often become warriors. We consider artistic creation to be a more worthy pursuit than any other, and we have built our culture around it. That is why we gave our duty of guarding the Farplane over to the Guado. They are better capable to protect such a treasure. But….I wonder now if that might not have been cruel a cruel thing." He almost seemed to be talking to himself. Suddenly he started and looked guiltily at her, as if he had said something he shouldn't.

"But never mind all that. I have seen spheres of your performances, but never heard you sing in person. Would you bless me with a song?" He asked.

"Sure! It's the least I can do for you!" She said, eager for the chance to cheer him up.

"Here. Take this. I am told it increases the quality of a singer's performance." He said, holding out a sphere to her.

"A Dress Sphere?" She asked, reaching out to take it. As soon as it settled in her palm she felt the odd sensation of the spiritual energy in the sphere crawling across her skin, and when she looked down she saw she was dressed differently. Her white robes with the red triangle pattern on the fringe of the hood had been replaced by a short black skirt and an aqua top with white fringe around the collar. "Oh, wow! Thank you, Varuna!"

And with that she raised the microphone that had replaced her staff to her lips, and Varuna raised his harp and began to play.

"_When all the world was young and new_

_and pride did not obstruct our view_

_The tribes each valued one another_

_And called each other sister and brother_

_But then the trappings of ego caught_

_Bevelle inside a painful knot_

_And friendship did its people spurn_

_Cities fell and flowers burned_

_Please let us remember once again_

_The time of happiness, peace and friends_

_For if we wish with all our might_

_We shall no longer have to fight_

_The world shall then its youth regain_

_And no one will there be to blame."_


End file.
